To Fall and Crash
by i-gave-me-away
Summary: Some Reela set after Strange Bedfellows. Some major angst, y'all. RayNeela
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to…the powers that be.

Title: To Fall (and Crash)

Rating: T, for some mekkin' out, I guess.

This is set after Strange Bedfellows; dismayed by the absence of Roomie scenes last night, I decided to…er…write. Or attempt to, anyway. Don't know where I'm going with this quite yet (it's probably painfully apparent), but hopefully I'll figure it out. ANGST. I know (not to mention hope) this will not happen in canon, at least not when Neela's still married or so soon after…you know, for the spoiled ones, but it's fun in la-la land, 'idn't it?

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She had to leave.

It was one of the most important decisions that she'd ever had to make in her life. She felt the importance. She also felt the pain, the pain of wondering why…why her conflicted emotions all pointed toward the same person: Ray. Perhaps, it would had been easier to just give in, lean in, and sink her teeth into his tongue, but Neela Rasgotra always knew consequences follow rash, impulsive decisions; hell, look at her marriage with Michael. But she had wanted to do it, so bad, wanted to devour him in a way that she had never wanted to do to her husband.

"Neela?" Morris waved a hand in front of her face. "Woo-hoo, Earth to Neela. Stitch job in Curtain 3?"

Neela snapped out of her reverie at the front desk and dropped the pen she was holding. She grabbed the chart out of Morris' outstretched hand and promptly proceeded toward the curtain.

Gazing at her, Morris shook his head. "Is she PMSing?" When he looked around and realized no one was listening, he let out a nervous cough and muttered, "I guess not."

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Neela drew back the curtain and introduced herself to the patient, asking him what had happened. "I was, uh, skating, and I…fell," he replied. The young man brought his leg up and showed Neela a two inch gash across his shin. He had been covering it with some gauze.

"Alright, Ben, I'll stitch that up for you in a minute," she jotted down some notes. "Is your mom or dad here, Ben?" asked Neela, as she gathered up some supplies.

Ben nodded. "My mom went to the cafeteria. Said she'd be back in a bit."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to scoot back a bit..." Neela set to work.

She's been throwing herself in work lately, after the whole moving out debacle with Ray. She was being a coward, she knew it, but the knowledge only pushed her farther. She tried to avoid him at all costs, taking shifts when she knew he wouldn't be, taking extra shifts when she knew he wouldn't be. He tried calling her, many times, but she would never pick up. She couldn't. Facing him would throw her into a tailspin, one in which she could not come out of unscathed.

"All done. I'll be right back." She closed the curtain as she left and passed by Morris. Turning her head back, she scoffed, "I'm not PMSing, _Morris_."

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A loud knock brought Neela's attention away from the television. With an annoyed grunt, she pulled herself from the couch. When she opened the door and saw her visitor, she immediately got ready to close it.

"Wait." Ray brought his elbow out. "Don't close it. Please, Neela. We need to talk." He pleaded with his bloodshot eyes. "Please," he begged.

Already feeling the tears well up in her eyes, Neela complied and left the door open. She stood back to let him in, knowing it was a mistake in doing so.

He stepped in and closed the door, closing in on her. Until she was staring at his neck. She tilted her head up. "Ray…I can't do this right now."

He abruptly wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her up, bring his mouth to hers. Their lips met, and so did Neela's back and the door; suddenly they were all over each other like rabid animals. He forced her mouth open and crashed his teeth against hers, grinding himself into her. Their hands clutched, grabbed, felt everything.

Neela immediately tried to rationalize the situation but failed, miserably, and there they were, for quite some time, in a passionate, erotic, embrace. Her conscious flew back to her, finally, and she pushed his arms away and untangled her legs from his back, squirming until she was free. Mostly, anyway, as he was still sucking at her top lip.

His bottom lip grazed over her left eye as she awkwardly slid to the floor and laid her head on her knee. She started to cry, silently. Ray knelt down in front of her, using his hands to raise her face and pressed his forehead against hers, eyes shut. And there they sat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys, they were great!

The story's become more of a character-driven piece so far, but it'll grow a plot soon. What will the plot be? Dunno. Your guess is as good as mine.

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He carried her to the couch, made sure she was comfortable, and found a blanket on the floor to cover her with. A clean one, hopefully, but he wasn't sure. She looked cold, though, so he covered anyway. He gave her a peck on the forehead and lightly swept her hair from her eyes.

She had fallen asleep crying.

He knew not what to make of it. It was a problem.

It was a problem because he, in actuality, understood. He understood why she was crying, he understood why he was crying, why he was leaving her there on the couch to go home and take a cold, cold shower.

He had just made Neela commit adultery.

Ray pondered this as he drove home, so distracted that his van narrowly missed a pedestrian. Part of him was angry at himself for hurting Neela. She had trusted him. The other part, however; the other part was turned on. Turned on by the fact that he had power over her, the power to turn _her_ on. _He could make her beg._

And it was only him that had this…control over her.

He could bend her, twist her, and snap her, just like that, at will. She would let him do all those things and enjoy it.

He shook his head at this absurd theory as he slid into the parking space. It made him sound like an over-possessive freak. He didn't want to own her. His head told him it was wrong, chauvinistic, but his body reacted otherwise. Had she been in his head at the moment, Neela would've kicked his goddamn nuts.

Ray shut the engine and groaned, looking down at his jeans.

Time for that cold shower.

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The water cooled his body, head, and thoughts. He could think clearly now. Clearer than the bluest, cloudless sky.

All that, while he was driving?

It was fueled by lust, he explained to himself. No need to panic. He needn't worry about turning into a raging, jealous, boyfriend. He hated those types, anyhow. He would see 'em all the time at the gigs he use to play. Jerks. They'd rough their girls up anytime an innocent looker would check them out, complaining that their skirts were too short or their shirts too low. And it would be them that would dress up their little trophies, bastards.

The tears from earlier returned as Ray sat on the couch, with damp hair and clothes, watching the television.

Channel 2, fuzz n' buzz.

He had made Neela commit adultery. The thoughts in his head repeated, over and over. He was a home wrecker. He was an adulterer. He was the other man. He was an ass. _The other man._

But was he really? How did he know that _he_ was "the other man"? How did he know it wasn't Michael she had been moaning for? Ray's conceit shielded the fact that Neela hadn't gotten laid in God knows how long, that maybe he was a consolation prize.

He hadn't been thinking, he realized, when he drove to Abby's after his shift earlier.

Ray searched his mind for the reason he'd decided to see Neela. He knew she'd been avoiding him, could that have been why? To talk to her, clear the air between them.

That was the reason, he decided, but it became clouded by something else.

He remembered stopping by the local park beforehand, sitting on a bench, ironically, thinking. He loved to think at the park. The green colors and fresh air soothed him, as well as the birds and squirrels. Who needs a shrink when you've got nature on your side?

Then it came to him. He had seen two lovers, on a nearby bench. The man had his arm around the woman, his hand on her face. They were kissing, passionately, but softly. It was endearing, romantic.

It impaired his thought process.


End file.
